


Not Exactly a Fairy Tale

by Gat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Merman!Junkrat, Others appear briefly - Freeform, Swearing, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gat/pseuds/Gat
Summary: Mako takes an odd job that gets even odder.





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself. I promised myself that I wouldn't do this.  
> Especially since I already have a fic in progress. I don't need two to worry about.  
> But I did it.
> 
> Save me.

It was a perfect day out at sea, which was hugely impressive considering Mako hated the ocean. The sun was bright in the clear blue sky, and a crisp breeze blew over the waves to cool its rays. The deep blue of the ocean was particularly vibrant, but that was also probably because he happened to be sober. The only thing that was out of place was the chatter. There were six extra bodies on his boat, and to be completely honest the shitty little cape islander wasn't really big enough to accommodate all of them and their stuff. It was barely big enough for Mako.

At least he was getting paid well for this, he reminded himself. These rich fucks wanted to go tuna fishing, so by God he would take them tuna fishing. It wasn't a fare he went after much himself, since it was at least a three man job and he preferred to run alone. He knew how it was done, had the equipment, and was pretty damn proficient with a harpoon and a gaff, but working with others made his teeth itch. 

He glanced again at the kids who were goofing off on the front of the ship. There wasn't much room on the deck between the hull and the cabin, so they were taking turns balancing on the railing and showing off. He had told them at least eighteen times to quit fucking around, but it was to no avail. If the brats wanted to go for a swim that badly, who was he to stop them?

"Hey, you're sure there's fish in here?"

Mako sighed. The darker of his more adult clients had been doubting him all morning, and now that they had been on open water for three hours waiting for a bite, his patience was obviously wearing thin.

"Be patient, Gabriel," the woman of the group chided from where she was leaning in the shade. "The fish don't bite on command." Gabriel threw a piece of chum into the water with way too much force.

It was her who had approached him for this job, and he found her interesting. It had been an odd conversation at the time, to be sure.

Four days ago. He had just come back to port after a long day out on the water and was ditching spoiled chum and collecting trash from corners of his boat when he heard an argument up the dock. A group of three adults, two men and a woman, arguing with each other. Judging from their colorful attire, Mako had pegged them as tourists right off the bat. It wasn't uncommon since the island he lived on was in prime locale in the middle of the Pacific, but that didn't stop him from being annoyed by them. He hadn't moved out to bumfuck nowhere to have civilization follow him.

He returned to his work, unconcerned. If they had been looking for charters, they were out of luck; they had all been booked up well in advance. Too bad, so sad. He dumped a cooler overboard, and when he set it down he noticed there was someone standing on the dock next to his boat, looking at him. He blinked in surprise at the woman, who had separated off from the other two men who were standing where they had been with their hands crossed petulantly. Something about men never asking for directions. 

"Pardon me," she said, her voice clear and pleasant. Her blonde hair was tied up in a loose bun and her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled. Mako pursed his lips but decided to be somewhat pleasant.

"Need help?" he asked.

"Yes, please! I was wondering if you know of any charters still accepting passengers?" Suspicions confirmed.

"No," he said, and continued stuffing beer cans in a plastic bag. He found that he had started stuffing them a little faster, like he didn't want her to see. He shoved the thought away, it was utterly absurd. Why should he care what she thought of him? Maybe she was just one of those women with that overbearing mother aura. "They've been booked for months. You're out of luck."

"Ah, shoot." She pouted a little. "Do you know of anyone who would be willing to go out with us? My friends are intent on doing some sport fishing. We'll pay well."

Mako paused to think. It's not like it was a difficult task, and he had the outfitting to do it. Business had been slow anyway, and he had bills to pay. 

"How many?" he asked.

"Us three, my daughter, and her friends."

"What's that, six? Seven?"

"Six."

"That's a lot of lines." There was no way his boat could accommodate that many fishers. There was no way HE was accommodating that many fishers.

"No, no. Only Jack and Gabriel want to fish, the rest of us are along for the ride."

Mako grunted. That was better. "Got permits?" He was not having illegal fishing happening on his boat. At least, not illegal fishing that he wasn't doing. He had recently renewed all his licenses on a whim anyway, may as well make use of them.

"Yup, all ready. Gear, too."

At least he wouldn't have to sacrifice good rods to idiots. "When?"

"Sometime in the next four days, whenever you're available."

"How much?"

"How's fifteen hundred?" She suddenly got a sly look on her face. "I'll double it if you're up for something slightly...more?"

Now  _that_ piqued Mako's interest. The price was honestly whatever at this point. He wanted to know what this seemingly suburban white mom wanted to do that merited that tone of voice.

"I'm listening."

"So we're out here in the Pacific, right? There's all kinds of deserted islands and stuff all over. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity to have a camp out on one of them, and I've wanted to do it since I was a little girl." She giggled nervously. "Just for one night."

He wanted to laugh his ass off at the innocent nature of her request, but decided instead to play along. She probably thought it was a bigger deal than it actually was. $1500 to ship some people off to a deserted island was huge. "You a cop?"

She shook her head and said no. She didn't know he was fucking with her. Beautiful. He narrowed his eyes in thought. Well, to make it look like he was in thought. He had already made up his mind. He put out his hand.

"Three days from now, five in the morning, right here. Half now, half after we get back to shore. Three thousand."

The woman took his hand with a smile. "That sounds like a deal. My name is Angela. Who am I making the checks out to?"

Mako dragged himself back into the present. The man named Gabriel was fidgeting in his chair irritably while Angela went back to her book. The other man, Jack, was intently watching the red balloon that was floating off in the distance. A watched pot will eventually boil, but a watched hook will never get struck. His loss. 

Mako jumped slightly as one of the kids slammed their face against the plexiglass windshield and pulled a face at him. It was Angela's daughter, Hana. The little gremlin had done nothing but make fun of Mako since she first saw him on the pier. He wasn't attractive by any sense of the word, but the nasty creature was taking it to extremes. She wasn't even getting any laughs out of her friends by doing it, she was just doing it to do it. He hadn't really reacted to it yet, and wasn't planning on it. She eventually got bored of making fun of his teeth and went back to chatting with her friends.

She was honestly the worst part of the trip. Her friends were just fine, if way too cheerful. He had been introduced to them this morning, but hadn't bothered remembering their names. The adults were much more important.

A pop sounded across the waves. One of the balloons had popped, and almost instantly a reel started chattering as a tuna finally took the bait. To the left. Gabriel got the hit.

"Reel!" Mako barked and kicked the engine of the boat on and swung it around. A splash from the bow and a shriek made it clear the gremlin had fallen off. Angela sighed and got up to fish her daughter out of the ocean. Jack quickly started reeling in with obvious disappointment as Gabriel frantically put the gloves he had just taken off back on and grabbed at his rod. Mako shoved his sunglasses on and turned to watch the line to position the boat properly. 

Gabriel reeled like a madman, getting tension on the line before he clipped it into a holder on the side of the boat. He worked on the line steadily as Mako shifted the boat this way and that in response to the fish's movements. He solidly ignored the soggy brat's complaints that he had done that on purpose as her mother brought her back aboard. To his satisfaction, Angela reminded her that he told her so.

The fight with the fish lasted a good couple of hours, and Gabriel and Jack traded off reeling to conserve their strength. They slowly got the fish closer, and it was starting to swim in frantic circles. He called Jack over, since Gabriel was again working the reel, and shoved a harpoon in his hands.

"Get it close to deck."

"We're killing it?" one of the gremlin's friends, a chipper brown-haired girl with an accent piped up. She seemed distressed at the idea as Jack ran to the side of the boat and took aim at the fish.

"No other way to get a tuna on deck," Mako said, still adjusting to compensate the fish. "They're predators, they don't stop fighting."

"Tuna are predators?" the other friend, a short boy with dreads, asked. They seemed legitimately confused at this obviously new information. Mako resisted the urge to throw them all overboard.

"Yes, they eat other fish," he growled through gritted teeth. "I'll give an ecology lesson later. Now shut up, I'm trying to focus."

Jack eventually lined up a shot and was able to get a good grip on the fish with the harpoon. He hauled on the rope to get it lined up with the boat, at which point Mako shut down the engine and grabbed the gaff off the wall. He hooked the fish behind the head with practiced ease and hauled the thing aboard. It was a hefty fish, a good four or five feet long, and it flailed savagely on the deck. Mako drove a brain spike into its head, and the fish convulsed for a few seconds before it laid still.

The two men looked at each other and then at their fish for a moment before they whooped in delight and punched each other with exhausted arms while the various spikes were taken out of the fish. Mako grabbed a knife and cut under the gills to start bleeding it. The brown-haired girl vomited over the side of the boat. 

"Now's the time for victory pictures before I clean it."

There were quite a few photos taken, and Mako busied himself with preparing to ice the fish. He kicked open a big cooler that he had filled with ice that morning, and started hauling up buckets of seawater to pour into the container. 

"You're just melting the ice," the gremlin said loftily.

"I know what I'm doing," he said shortly. 

"Ocean water doesn't freeze, the salt will just melt the ice," she insisted. He paused in his work to take off his sunglasses and level a flat stare at her.

"Which one of us is the professional fisherman?"

"Not you."

"You wanna swim back to shore?"

"Hana, quit antagonizing Mr. Rutledge," Angela intervened. "Let him work, he knows what he's doing."

Reluctantly, the kid went back up to the front of the boat to comfort her friend. After Mako was satisfied with the slush, he returned to the fish to shoo the triumphant hunters away from their kill. He set to work with a sharp knife.

"What, we don't get to clean it?" Gabriel asked.

"This isn't like cleaning a trout," Mako growled. To emphasise, he popped the gills out of socket with his bare hands. It wasn't a necessary gesture as far as cleaning the fish went, but they didn't need to know that. He just wanted it done right. The popping of bone and cartilage made the man back down. The girl puked again. Pathetic. 

He had the fish cleaned in a matter of minutes, and stuffed slush ice into its body cavity before dumping the whole fish into the cooler. He shut the lid and looked down at his deck. He sighed. It was a mess. He set to work doing a cursory clean of the deck, using seawater and a push broom to scrub most of the blood and viscera off and into the ocean. 

"What now?" Jack asked once the deck was clean and Mako had started busying himself with some maps and a GPS. "I don't think we have the strength to reel in another one. Should we head back?"

"We have another stop," Angela said from a stool she had taken up residence on to avoid the wet deck. "We're going camping, remember?"

"Oh, right. Where was it, again?"

"A private getaway I arranged," she responded vaguely. Mako had to suppress a snort. 

"Get comfortable," he said, having finally figured out their bearing. "It'll be a couple of hours."

The sun was starting to get low in the sky when they finally came upon the atoll Mako had picked out for their camping trip. It was out of the way enough that no one bothered with it, and was pretty darn picturesque. He dropped anchor off the coast and pulled out an inflatable dinghy in a box.

"It's so pretty!" Angela said when she saw it. "I would think you're a romantic, Mako."

The big man shrugged. "You asked for deserted, I give you deserted." No one was on this island. He should know, he used it for smuggling purposes every once in a while. People actually avoided the place. He tossed the boat in a box into the water, where it auto-inflated within seconds.

It took them four trips to get all the things they had brought with them onto shore. Mako thought it was excessive, but they insisted they needed their tents and barbecue supplies and other nonessentials. It wasn't supposed to rain until the day after tomorrow, but Mako supposed they were softer than he was. They brought the fish over last, and he let them awkwardly butcher the beast as he rowed back out to his boat under the pretense of making sure it was secure.

In all honesty, he was off to take a well-deserved nap. It had been supremely exhausting to maintain his civility for this long, and he was damn proud of how nice he had been so far. He pulled up to his boat and tied the dinghy off to the side and carefully transferred his bulk from one craft to the other. He really didn't feel like getting wet. 

He pulled out his lounging chair and set it up. He had been sober all day, which was not his preferred method of sea travel. The ocean was boring most of the time, and Mako usually went out of his way to avoid being on the water when it wasn't, so he filled the boredom with drinking.

It always took a lot of alcohol to even start to impact him, so he really wasn't looking to get drunk. A pleasant buzz was all he was looking for, and he was halfway through a 24-pack when he finally started feeling something. He settled back on the shitty lawn chair and gazed off at the horizon.

"What a fucking beautiful day," he muttered in disgust. He set a kitchen timer for an hour and settled down and let himself drift off.

He wasn't actually asleep for very long before he was woken up. He wasn't quite sure what it was by, but he woke up suddenly. His brows knitted together and he looked around the boat to find some source of his perturbation. He eventually figured that it was nothing and settled back down again. For a second time, he woke up not very long after falling asleep. A few minutes at most. The odd rock of the boat grabbed his attention instantly, and he growled. It felt like something was trying to get onto his boat, and his mind immediately went to Angela's little brat. He got up and looked around the boat for an intruder, but found none.

He scratched his head. He wasn't so far off shore that someone who was a really good swimmer couldn't get to him, but it was definitely more than an average person could handle. Not that he could tell how good a swimmer someone was by looking at them. He had gotten into a really weird competition a year or so back that involved racing someone out to a bouy in the harbor. The buff moron didn't make it halfway out before he started getting exhausted. Idiot nearly drowned. The only reason Mako had saved the sorry bastard is bragging rights.

He looked at the people on the beach. All of them were there. Weird. He decided it must have been the wind blowing or maybe a curious shark or dolphin. No big deal. He settled back down to sleep. He felt himself start to rouse with another shake of the boat a few minutes later, but he willed himself to stay asleep. It was nothing. Even when the shaking continued, it was nothing. He doubted it was the gremlin, he was sure she wouldn't be able to keep from giggling if she was sneaking up on him.

He was sure it wasn't her. Until he heard a giggle. His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. A splash off the side of the boat. He darted to that side and saw nothing but a few remaining ripples. He growled and turned back to the beach. Hana was still there on dry land, kicking over her friends' sandcastle. Her hair was completely dry. 

"Must be a sea bird," he muttered. That's what it had to be. Were there cormorants here, maybe? Whatever, nothing more alcohol couldn't fix. He plowed through the last twelve beers in rapid succession and settled back down on his chair. He ignored its groan of protest under his weight and consulted his timer. Forty minutes left. He could still get a solid nap in. He closed his eyes, but couldn't quite relax anymore. Eventually, the shake came back. It was definitely something trying to climb aboard his boat, or someone judging by the giggling that accompanied it. Someone was definitely fucking with him he decided. He was going to get whoever it was, and give them the beating of their life. Nobody fucks with Mako Rutledge. He forced his face to remain calm and pretended to be asleep.

There was a wet plopping sound as something hit the deck, then a sound of scraping. Like lots of fingernails scratching at the wood. The fuck makes a noise like that? He'd see in a moment, though. If that thing so much as touched him, he'd grab it and crush it in one of his big ham fists. 

As it got closer, he became aware of its coarse breathing. Like someone was trying to breathe with lungs partially filled with water. It made Mako want to cough to clear his own lungs despite nothing being wrong with them. It was getting hard to remain motionless, as every muscle in his body was screaming for him to look at whatever it was that was dragging itself across his boat, wheezing and cackling its way towards him.

" _Maybe it's a mermaid_ ," he thought, amused at the very idea that something like that would choose to show itself to him of all people. " _It would be just my luck that it's a fucking crazy ass mermaid_ ," he added to the thought as he suppressed a twitch at a particularly shrill bout of laughing.

The hairs on his arms rose up as he felt the presence settle next to him. He could hear the breathing, and had to focus every ounce of self-control he had to not pounce on the thing. Not until...

It touched him. A cold, wet, slimy touch that felt more like a dolphin's skin than anything else. He recoiled from it slightly but shot his hand out to grab at whatever it was. His hand connected with what felt like an arm, of a similar texture to the hand. He opened his eyes and was taken aback to see a human face. No, not human. Almost, though. The gold eyes were too big, the nose was flat, and the ears were fins.

"Fins?" he asked questioningly, more a reaction than a real inquiry. His eyes took in more, from the long, snarled blond hair to the bare torso with slits along the ribs, a long mottled green tail stretching off of hips, with gold and orange fins. It was honestly pretty ugly aside from the colors, which glittered in the setting sun.

The creature seemed to be just as taken aback by being grabbed, as it took it a few moments before it realized just what was going on. It's teeth were suddenly bared, large white triangles in its overlarge mouth, and a rattling hiss emanated from it. Fins started to rise up and puff out, the ears, the back, on elbows and shoulders, making it look bigger and more threatening. Mako didn't remove his hand fast enough in his stupor, and suddenly found half-inch long teeth sunk into his forearm. He howled and swung at the creature with his other hand. It released him and dodged out of the way.

With surprising agility it bounced across the deck and up and over the side of the boat with a loud splash. Mako ran to the side of the boat after it, but only saw a spark of gold in the depths as it swam out and away from the boat. He was at a total loss for words. He wouldn't have believed it even with his own eyes if the slimy monster hadn't have bitten him. He looked down at his arm, which was bleeding freely. The thing had more than one row of teeth, that much was apparent by how many more gouges lined his arm inside the bite.

"Fffffffffuck," he hissed. He went to the cabin and stared digging for a first aid kit. He found it after a few seconds of digging, but just threw the box overboard when there was nothing in there but two extra (and very old) cans of beer. Maybe his clients had one with them. Regardless, it was better than bleeding out on the deck. He grabbed some canvas, cut off a long strip and tied it around his forearm as best he could. He couldn't believe he'd just had the shit bitten out of him by a mermaid. 

They'd never believe that either, he told himself as he settled into the dinghy and started towards shore. A fish person crawled onto his deck and bit him. That's totally believable Mako, they totally won't try to maroon you here because you're a dangerous madman, nah. It's much more believable that it was a shark. Yeah. He was fishing off the side to see what there was, and he caught a small shark. It bit him while he was trying to release it. That's much more believable. Hell, he barely believed the truth himself and it had just happened to him.

As soon as he got to shore and Angela saw that he was wounded, she immediately pulled out a med kit and sat him down to fuss over him. He grumbled as she disinfected the wound (it had already started to turn a weird pink color around the punctures) but she ignored him and patched the wound up with gauze. She gave him a choice of self-adhesive bandage colors, and he opted for the pastel pink. Blue was an awful color. It reminded him of the sea.

Something he had no plans of going out on again after he got back home. He looked back out to his boat, and he was pretty sure he saw a flash of gold.

Yeah. Fuck that.


	2. Singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako doesn't like being told what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made me so mad. It would have been done a week ago, but I accidentally lost all of the work I put into it by deleting the whole thing. I've only just now gotten over it to re-write it.

Mako had placed him self apart from the tourists on purpose. He wasn't a part of their group, first of all. They all laughed and joked with each other with a familiarity that Mako had thrown away a long time ago. He felt awkward being too close to them, like he was intruding on something he hadn't been invited to. He was just their chauffeur, not their friend. Which was fine. He didn't necessarily want any kind of friendship with them. Indeed, they were much too noisy and rambunctious for his taste, and the two older men reeked of military service.

Not that it was bad, but Mako had never found the military attractive. He bristled at being told what to do and found the machismo annoying. Besides, even if he wanted to join he couldn't. He was well beyond the physical restrictions, especially now. Way too tall, way too fat, way too old. 

His other reason for not wanting to be included was that he was in a foul mood. His encounter earlier in the evening left his arm feeling swollen and itchy on top of the dull throb of the deep punctures and served as a constant reminder of what was lurking in the waves. 

He fucking hated the sea. It was desolate and unpredictable, more barren than any desert. Hell, being out on the waves for any period of time left him thinking fondly of the little inland village in which he grew up in Oz. It had been a miserable little dustbowl even at the best of times, with the only wildlife around being one small pack of dingoes that ransacked the town every so often if someone left their trash unburned for too long. Even just thinking about it brought the ghost of the metallic taste of the well water to his mouth.

But the ocean made that faint stain on the outback look like the next goddamn Eden. All the water was totally undrinkable and even dehydrated you more, there was absolutely zero shelter from the sun, and wildlife was harder to find than an honest politician. Sure, he knew where to go to find shit now, but without that knowledge it would be entirely possible to go for weeks on the water without a single fish. 

All that aside, the deep is what really made Mako's skin crawl. He didn't know what was down there, or how deep it went, but he was pretty sure that at any given time the closest land was horizontal to him and not vertical, regardless of whether or not that was a fact. Some kid with a starched collar had tried to explain the geography of the bottom to him despite his protests, that the entire Pacific almost was nothing but an abyssal plain. Mako had stopped listening when the kid explained that the floor of the ocean could be as many as four miles down. That was much more than he had ever wanted to know.

Sometimes, if he let it get to him, the idea of all that water would drive him to panic attacks while on the water. That was the primary reason for him never sailing sober if he could help it, since he didn't focus on it if he was drunk. He wouldn't think about the wildlife documentaries he had seen about the bottom of the ocean. The perpetual blackness, the freezing cold, the strange fish with the bug eyes bristling with needle-like teeth, the lampreys twisting inside a dead and rotting whale. That last one always made his skin crawl.

Despite his fear of it, the ocean offered him his best chance of living life by his own terms. Classic jobs didn't suit him well, both because of his size and his independent streak. He had lost more than a few jobs due to his temper in his youth, and people didn't like to hire him because of his "mean look." The ocean didn't care. She greeted him with a cold indifference every day, like a lover who had grown bored with the routine but refused to talk about the problem. She didn't have many demands of him, and he knew better to avoid her when she was getting snappy. They had a cordial and professional relationship with each other, which suited Mako just fine. 

He had heard some of the old salts in the bar wax poetic about the sea, about her fiery temper and beauty surpassing any woman they had seen. Mako honestly thought they needed to get laid a little bit more. The sea was not fiery, it cold. It didn't have a temper, it was just plain cruel. It also definitely wasn't beautiful. There was beauty within the ocean, but he didnt find the ocean itself beautiful. Especially since it harbored far more ugly secrets under the swells.

Like that nasty little fish man.

Just the thought of the little bait fish made Mako's blood boil. It was so goddamn ugly, so fucking gross. He could still feel the slimy, rubbery texture of the thing's skin on his hand and it made his stomach churn. He could smell the reek of fishy slime if he sniffed at his hand, which he had only made the mistake of doing once. It had taken all the force of will he could muster to not puke. His forearm pulsed painfully. Little shit. Maybe he would come back here, if only to catch the slimy shit stain and gut it.

"Mako," a light voice said, seemingly from far away. He jumped slightly and looked up to the source of the sound. Angela was standing there with a concerned look on her face and a paper plate with a slightly charred tuna steak on it. He felt his heart jump in his chest and swallowed it back down. Pretty faces had always been a weakness of his, and they always got him in more trouble than they were worth. "You okay?" she asked him, her tone matching her expression. He must have been scowling more than he had meant.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking the offered plate. "Just hurts. I'll be alright."

She didn't seem convinced but let it pass. For now. "Why don't you join us?" she offered instead.

He shook his head. "You guys are here for vacation. I'd just ruin it."

"No way!" one of the kids said, suddenly behind Angela. He was a short boy with dreads and a bubbly attitude. Lúcio was apparently his name. "You're here with us, too! C'mon, it'll be fun!" He seemed genuinely nice, and it has hard to say no to the expectant grin across his face.

Mako sighed irritably and hauled himself to his feet, making sure to keep his fish balanced on its flimsy plate. Lúcio whooped and practically skipped back to the campfire, and Mako mentally bobbed in his wake. How did someone stay so upbeat? Angela walked beside him, matching his much slower trudge.

"Are you sure you're okay with staying out here?" she asked, picking up the question she had set aside not even a minute before. "That bite is infected, it needs treatment."

"There's the mother I was expecting," Mako said with a chuckle. She wrinkled her nose in response.

"I can't help it. I have concern for your health. As a doctor, we should head back."

"I'll be fine. I've had worse. Besides, it would take too long to pack all this up in the dark, and I don't like sailing at night. Gets damn cold on the water."

She sniffed in disagreement but didn't voice it. He purposefully found a spot to sit in away from her and started in on the tuna. He was glad that the idiots had followed his advice and cooked the thing. Gabriel and Jack were talking about eating it sashimi style before Mako had pointed out that there were parasites that lived in the flesh of tuna, and that sashimi grade fish were flash frozen to kill them. He had started in on a slightly embellished horror story about a guy who had worms living in his muscles when they decided that cooking was a much better idea. 

The two men were in the middle of sharing military stories. The three adults had apparently all served at the same time, albeit in different branches and even countries, but had met each other during training exercises and tours. What surprised him the most was that the brown-haired girl with the delicate disposition, Lena, was also military. He had wound up sitting next to her, so it was pure convenience and his way of trying to be somewhat sociable when he asked her about it. Besides, he needed a distraction from the burning in his arm. He was pretty sure it was traveling up.

"I'm a pilot," she said with a cheerful wink. "One of the best."

"You're the soul of humility, Lena," Hana said with a smirk. She had calmed down considerably since they had landed. Apparently she had just needed to get her pent-up energy out. She hadn't even made fun of Mako since he came ashore.

"So kind of you to say, love," Lena responded with a laugh. "I can pilot anything: helos, jets, VTOL, gliders... If it gets up in the air, I can fly it."

Mako gave an appreciative nod for lack of input. His only experience with flying was his flight out to the island. It had been the most miserable four hours of his life, and he had to buy two tickets just to have the pleasure of experiencing it. He was sure most of his current knee problems stemmed from having had them jammed up against the seats in front of him the whole time. He wasn't going to start bitching though. No one needed to hear that.

The talk of Lena's piloting switched the gear of Gabriel and Jack, and they started talking about their parachute training. That went into comparing scars after Jack pointed out a nice, savage rip from nearly getting tangled in parachute cords when it had been deployed. Gabriel simply pointed to the parallel scars on his face. Angela showed off a bullet wound. They turned to Mako expectantly. His turn to be a part of the group apparently. 

He had plenty of scars, sure. He didn't feel like stripping down, however, or talking about certain aspects of his past. He instead opted to show his hand, which had a goodly sized puncture wound on both sides of the palm and a savage scar around it from a thick fishing line. "Trolling hook," he said simply. 

"Wow, that's huge!" Lúcio said, and reached across Lena to grab his hand and inspect it closer. "What happened?"

"Wasn't paying attention. Was able to cut the line before it cut all my fingers off. Had to get it removed at the hospital, didn't have wire cutters strong enough that I could use one-handed to clip out the hook."

"That must have been scary," Angela said from across the fire. "You're lucky."

"Adrenaline is a hell of a thing,"  he shrugged. 

The night continued on a good note that got even better when alcohol was pulled out of bags. He participated as was necessary but watched what he said. The pain dulled as he was offered shots of rum and wound up eating more of the tuna than he would have normally. He watched amused as the kids (not really kids, he had made the mistake of calling Hana a kid and she had immediately stated that she was an adult, if 19 could be considered such) got progressively more drunk at the permission of Angela and staggered after each other in the sand along the beach, attempting a game of tag with all of the grace of toddlers on benadryl.

They all finally let the fire die and retired. Mako withdrew a ways and dug and shifted himself a somewhat comfortable bed in the sand as blankets and pillows were pulled out for the others. He pulled off his shirt and balled it up into a makeshift pillow, more to keep sand out of his hair than for comfort. He hated the feeling of grit on his scalp that seemed to linger for weeks. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head swim around in a pleasant haze. He had to admit that this was the most fun he'd had in a while. He wasn't exactly the sociable sort, and these people weren't as unpleasant as most tourists who came through. 

If he could get more people like this he would consider going into the chartering business, he thought as he felt himself drifting off. He smiled slightly as the adults all yelled at the kids to calm down and go the fuck to sleep. 

He wasn't sure how long he had actually been asleep, and it took him a while anyway to realize that he was moving. He was walking along the beach, drawn forward by a tug in his still sleeping mind. It was filled with a song, a crooning sound that he couldn't quite find the words to describe (although later he would choose "horrendous" and "like a herd of cats being run over by a freight train") but to his addled mind, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

There were no words to it, but it filled his mind with images, feelings. The source of the voice wanted to take care of him, to treat him like a king. Anything he wanted would be freely given, he would be taken care of in a way no one else could ever do for him. He would never again be lonely, never have to be afraid. Paradise awaited him, he need only keep walking.

He tried to shake the haze that clouded his mind, but he was forced back down. Dimly, he thought that this was probably a fever dream, and that Angela had been right about going back. He then questioned that, since he had never thought that he was dreaming while he actually was, so this must be real. Very surreal, but real nonetheless. The light of the full moon seemed unnaturally bright, and it sparkled off of wave crests like a million diamonds under a jeweller's lamp.

He rounded a bend and was able to see past the thin forest that had grown on the atoll to see a break in the beach. The ocean skipped and danced over a shallow inlet that led into the interior lagoon, with the water moving in and out as if it were a living thing breathing. In the water waited for him the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Pale skin seemed to glow under golden hair, fiery red fins swayed in the breeze, gleaming green scales sparkled under the waves like emeralds, and bright amber eyes burned with an inner fire. It held out its arms to him, and the song in his head rose with them.

Dumbly, he obeyed its order. He walked towards it into the surf. The sudden shock of cold water around his ankles almost drew him out of his trance, but the song rose again to combat and subdue him. He walked through the surf until he was standing in front of the creature, the waves swirling about his waist. He shivered in the cold, and the crooning in his mind comforted him. The thing rose up on its powerful tail to meet his height and ran warm soft hands across his jaw. The hands traveled down his neck and chest and migrated to his wounded arm. It lifted the arm and gently unwrapped the bandages, taking special care to not get them wet.

Mako's mind again attempted to drag itself screaming from the abyss when he saw his wound. It was inflamed and a livid red, and yellow pus oozed out of the depths of the wounds. The song swirled around his head and took a pause from the promises of infinite wealth and happiness to apologize. Regret and sadness filled his mind instead, sorry, so sorry, didn't mean to hurt him, it was an accident, it would never happen again. The feelings stirred up by the song pulled at his chest as the creature spread a greenish paste over the wound that looked like ground up seaweed. It stung momentarily and he attempted to jerk away, but his arm was held fast. He was briefly irritated that this thing was stronger than he had anticipated, or maybe whatever it was doing had just sapped his strength that much.

He watched the hands that worked the poultice into the wounds and furrowed his brow. One hand was whole, with long rays that supported a beautiful fin from wrist to beyond the elbow. Membranes stretched between the fingers, obviously to aid in swimming. The other arm was mangled. The membrane had been torn from between the fingers, completely missing in places. One of the fingers had been severed partway up, and the rays of the arm fin were broken off or missing as well. Mako could clearly see the deep, criss-cross scar of a fishing line that had wrapped itself around the thing's arm, obviously the source of all the damage. He felt an uncharacteristic surge of sympathy towards the thing, and suppressed the urge to run his hand up and down the arm to try to soothe the obviously well-healed wound.

Regardless, the burning sensation that had now spread all the way up to his shoulder was starting to dissipate, and it felt soothing as the wound was rewrapped. The song switched gears again, back to the promises of happiness with praises peppered here and there. How strong he was, how handsome he was, how brave. It reached back up his chest and wrapped its warm arms around his neck and pressed its chest against his. He felt the long, powerful tail wrap around his legs, but couldn't focus on anything other than the swirling noise in his head and the glowing eyes. He was overcome by a compulsion to wrap his arms around this beautiful thing, and he slowly started to bring his arms up to comply.

Suddenly, a shell flew out of nowhere and collided with the side of the thing's head. The song stopped abruptly, and Mako blinked. The beautiful creature was gone, replaced with the scraggly thing from the deck of his boat. The golden hair became pale and matted, the fins torn and ruined, the scales dull olive, the skin sickly pale. The only thing that didn't change were the fiery eyes, which now burned with anger over Mako's shoulder. He was suddenly aware of the thing's cold touch and oh god, the  _smell._ The creature felt his sudden tenseness and sensed the danger it was in. It quickly unwound itself from around him and bounded off into the safety of the open sea.

Mako blinked again, and his anger suddenly pierced through and burned away the last wisps of fog from his mind. He roared into the sky and ducked down to pick up some chunks of coral rock at his feet and chucked them savagely towards where he had last seen the foul beast. He looked down at himself, at the foul-smelling mucus that covered his chest and neck, and knelt in the surf to scrub it all off as fast as he could. He wound up having to pick up handfuls of sand to scrape it off of everywhere the thing had touched, including his legs. He finally got it all off and went to tear the bandages off his arm and paused. The pain from the bite was almost gone, and the thing had seemed genuinely apologetic about hurting him. At least, as apologetic as something could be when it was fucking with your brain.

He turned instead to see where the shell had come from. Standing on the beach, another shell cocked back in her hand, was Hana. She was frozen still in shock, the expression on her face making it clear that she herself didn't believe what when had seen. Mako was honestly more relieved than he had ever been to see her there. He was convinced that she had just saved his life. He staggered out of the water, suddenly exhausted. 

"What was that?" she asked as he stepped out of the water. Her wide eyes focused on him, but she didn't relax. 

"Hell if I know," he grunted. He didn't feel like having a conversation about it. He just wanted to go to bed.

"I...I heard some kind of screeching, like someone had thrown a cat in a cement mixer," she muttered. "You were moving funny. I followed to investigate. I don't...I didn't..."

Mako chuckled. "It was ugly sounding, wasn't it?"

"But you...?"

"It had some kind of bullshit power over me," he muttered. He looked again at the bandages. The relief was steadily spreading up his arm.

"It's that what bit you?" Hana asked after a few moments of silence.

"...Yeah."

She dropped the shell she was holding and relaxed. "Is it coming back?"

"I don't know," he admitted. He paused. "Thank you."

"Y-yeah. No problem. Should...should we tell somebody?"

Mako thought about that for a moment. He now had someone to corroborate his story, someone on the outside so it wouldn't just wind up being dismissed as some fisherman's delusion. He was sure that would get someone over here who could catch the foul thing and carry it out of Mako's life permanently. He could have his peace of mind back, and never have to worry about it again.

Unbidden, and probably a leftover influence of the damn thing's song, he suddenly saw the image of its torn up arm. It probably couldn't swim well anymore in any kind of current, and was probably bound to this atoll. It churned up an unpleasant feeling in his gut.

"No," he growled through gritted teeth after a few more moments. "It would attract international attention, and I really don't feel like dealing with that."

"Fair enough," she admitted. "Not everyone can handle it." She thought about it. "And I don't think I like the idea of having gotten a person captured only to be gawked at behind glass."

He sighed. He really didn't want to think about the thing being a real person. At the moment he liked the idea of it being like a dolphin: incredibly smart yes, but lacking in human morality. He was sure that it was going to do the dolphin thing as well and lure him in only to drag him into the depths to drown him. 

"Will you come back here?" she asked after a few more moments of silence.

"I don't know." It was the truth. As he sifted through what had happened, he found that he was more and more conflicted on it, and found himself toying with six different ideas at once.

"Well," she said with a shrug, and Mako saw the mischievous grin creep back across her face, "it really seems to like you."

"Don't know why," he grunted, and started walking back towards the camp.

"I don't know either, honestly. But what if," she jogged up in front of him and continued jogging backwards so she could face him while they moved, "what if you figure out what it is and wants? See if it's got some human smarts to it?"

"It probably wants to eat me," Mako grumbled. "Don't really want to give it another opportunity."

"Oh come on," Hana said loftily, "there are better options than you. What about uncle Reyes or my dad?"

"Your dad?"

"Oh yeah, Jack and my mom were totally married a few years ago. Couldn't you tell?" Sarcasm. He ignored it.

"They're loud. And inseparable. And weren't delirious from a fever caused by its own goddamn bite."

Hana shrugged in a way that made it clear that she thought he was being difficult. Yeah,  _he_ was being difficult. Sure. He had nearly been drowned by a mermaid. He was petty sure that he was allowed to be a pain in the ass after that. 

"Interesting tattoo," Hana said after a while. Mako looked down. Oh yeah, he'd taken off his shirt. The cartoon pig was plainly visible. He absently ran a hand across it. 

"I was in a motorcycle gang," he said, like that explained everything. Hana was obviously unsatisfied. 

"So you got a tattoo of a cute pig?"

"I like pigs," he growled, and felt the tips of his ears get hot. "I've also beaten the shit out of people younger than you for making fun of it."

"I'm not making fun, jeez. Calm down. Just wondering why a a motorcycle gang member would get something that cute on him. Aren't you guys supposed to be all tough and shit?"

He snorted. "I knew more guys who had kittens and shit on them than not."

"Didn't people give them trouble?"

"Only drunk pussies who thought they had something to prove."

They walked in silence a bit more. This fucking thing had dragged him to the other side of the goddamn island. At least it was giving him a chance to dry off. 

"Well, I think it's cute."

"Thanks. I guess."

"Oh just take the compliment,you dick."

"Alright, alright. Let's just get back before anyone else wakes up. I don't feel like putting it that particular fire."

"What fire?"

"Oh come on. I'm a grown man, walking along the beach in the middle of the night alone with a teenage girl. Use your imagination."

It took her a few seconds to put two and two together, but when she did she pulled a face and let out an "Eeewwwww!"

"Feeling's mutual," he muttered sourly. "If anyone asks, I was sleepwalking. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Ew, now I feel gross..."

"Join the club."

Luckily, no one was awake when they snuck back into camp. Mako took his spot on on the beach as Hana crept back into her blankets over by the remnants of the fire. No one seemed aware of the fact that they hadn't been there the whole night, as no one brought it up the next day while they were packing up camp and ferrying things back and forth between the boat and the beach. 

Honestly, the whole thing felt like a bad dream until Mako went to start the boat. Something glittered on the wheel, and he picked up a gold chain with what looked like a big ruby pendant on it. It burned in the morning sun, and he quickly shoved it in his pocket as Gabriel leaned around a wall to tell him everything was ready. 

Now irritable, he went to pull the anchor up. His mood soured further as more glittering treasures came up, tied to the rope. He quickly shoved it all into the corner and covered it all up with a tarp. He was happy for his girth, since it completely blocked the sight from everyone else on the boat. He really didn't need to explain why he was pulling up treasure with the anchor. 

The trip back was considerably faster than the trip out, and they got back to port mid afternoon. They all thanked him fir the trip out as their stuff was unloaded from the vessel, and there were a lot of &yeah, no problems& given out. Angela handed him his other check after the others had left and said that if he was willing to next year, it would be fun to make this a tradition. He responded by saying he wasn't sure the pay was worth it, to which she laughed and told him to make sure to go get that bite checked out. 

He waited until he couldn't hear them anymore to start scouring his boat. Other than the one necklace from the wheel and another three and two bracelets from the anchor, there were a total of eight gold coins hidden in various places, as well as twelve twelve rings (four with stones) and sixteen unset gems hidden around his boat. 

The damn fish was trying to court him or something, he concluded as he cut his finger trying to pry a pale yellow stone out of a corner. Why else would the thing go through all this effort? He felt his stomach sink as he started to suspect that maybe Hana was right, the smelly little thing didn't watch to actually eat him. He wanted to toss all the shit overboard, not think about it, but if this shit was real, he wouldn't have to worry about fishing anymore. 

He put his hand on the bandages on his arm. It had helped him. He woke up that morning feeling better than he had in years, despite the interruption to his sleep. It had gone out of its way to apologize. Begrudgingly, he admitted that he couldn't really fault it. It wasn't human, and didn't know what they considered right ad wrong. He wouldn't have sat still anyway if he was in his right mind.

He suddenly remembered his empty first aid kit. He picked it up and opened it, intending to put his gifts inside, and was surprised to see a folded paper. He pulled it out and opened it up.

_Mako_

_Text me if you go back out. I wanna know what happens!!_

_Hana_

It ended with a phone number. He scowled at the paper in his hands for a moment.

He didn't own a cell phone.


	3. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako makes some bad life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it took so goddamned long for me to update this. Like, I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but I did it.  
> I guess that's what happens when you go from full-time unemployed to having full time jobs, huh?

All of the collective cash that Mako got from both chartering Hana's weird family out to that island and selling the treasure that the fish gave him made the next few months much more pleasant than he was strictly used to. His little house got a few very necessary upgrades, and he was even able to afford an engine upgrade for his boat, as well as a better navigation system.

 

He only kept one piece from all of the jewelry that was fished up, and he heavy gold ring sat on his left middle finger. He fiddled with it absently as he watched commercials on his fancy new TV, which he didn't even really know why he bought. He didn't really have any interest in watching anything. Perhaps reruns of old motorcycle shows. He always got a kick out of the ones with fake drama inserted to keep peoples' attention.

 

He was getting itchy, though. It had been three months since he had set foot on the ocean for anything other than trying out his new sat nav, and he was begrudgingly accepting now that he wanted to get back out on the water. More particularly...

 

He spun the gold ring around his finger absently. He had long since accepted that yes, there was a weird eel-thing lurking around that island. It had also bit him very hard. Then it tried to undo the damage. It was a frustrating conundrum that had stuck in the old man's brain, and refused to dislodge. Perhaps it was worth trying to figure out exactly what was going on in the thing's mind. Especially if it meant getting basically free money.

 

A glance over at the phone that was on the coffee table. It had been one of the first purchases he made when he got things cashed out, but he hadn't done anything with it other than get a waterproof, floating case for it (pink) with a charm (pig). He hadn't even put Hana's number in it, let alone messaged her about anything.

 

But, if he was going to go venture off somewhere to quite possibly drown from unnatural causes, _someone_ should know.

 

Mako hefted himself out of his armchair and trudged over to the shelf he had put the rusted old box that contained the girl's number. He pulled out the piece of paper and went back to the chair and pulled up his phone. He fiddled a bit with it using a stylus since his fingers were way too big for the screen, and he had her number in with her name in less time than he thought, considering he had only a basic primer on how to use the damned thing.

 

Now he hesitated a bit. He had no idea what kind of time difference there was between here and there, and whether she'd be asleep or busy or whatnot. He chewed his lip for a second before committing to a message.

 

_< Hey its mako. I finally got a phone. Thinking about going back soon._

 

He swallowed his apprehension and hit send. Maybe it was the wrong number? That wouldn't make sense. Why would she give him the wrong number? It's not like he was some creep at a bar. He's just some creep on a boat. He shook his head and went to put the device down when it started vibrating in his hands. He quickly looked at the screen, and was taken aback by what he saw as a message.

 

_> Maaakkkoooooooo!!!! _^ㅇ^ノ.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

_> What took u so long??? _ㅠㅅㅠ

_> I thought u forgot my number lol_

 

Mako's mind spun a little bit at the fast reception and the exuberance. He started writing a reply and got four more texts asking how he had been and asking what time it was. He eventually scratched out a reply about him sitting on his ass for several months enjoying his fat paycheck and that it was near seven in the evening.

 

_> It's almost midnite here! ^ㅅ^_

_> So you're behind me??? That's weird!! ㅇㅅㅇ ;;_

 

Mako cocked his head. It would be weird to be behind her. He sent her the date.

 

_> OH THAT EXPLAINS IT_

_> You're 12 hours ahead of me lol_

_> The date line is weird (•¯ ∀ ¯•)_

_> Anyway ur going back? When?_

 

_< Probably in a couple of days._

_< I figure I should tell someone._

_< Just in case that ducker drowns me._

 

He frowned slightly at his phone censoring his profanity for him. He'd have to watch out for that.

 

_< Shouldn't you be in bed? It's late._

 

_> I should ask the same thing lol!!!_

_> Old men should get their beauty rest >ㅁ<_

_> I'm chilling/w lucio anyway so its hard 2 sleep /w him blasting his music_

_> He says hi btw_

 

It took a few seconds for him to pull what those last three letters meant from context before understanding what she meant, in between searching for some weird faces to send back. If he was going to do this, he may as well step up his game.

 

_< Yeah, hi to him._

_< (ভ _ভ) ノ_

_< I have preparing to do if I'm gonna leave sometime this year._

 

_> LMAO okayyyyy _ _ㅎㅅㅎ_

_> good night makoooooooooooo~~~~_

 

_< Good night._

_< Go to bed. (▽•̀(oo)•́ ▽)_

 

He put his phone down and sat back in his chair. There was a lot to get ready if he was going to make an extended trip out to that little atoll. But first, some sleep DID sound like a good idea. His phone buzzed a couple of times but he ignored it in favor of getting up and starting his wind down routine. He could get up early and start packing things up tomorrow.

 

The next few days went quickly as he got provisions and whatnot for his trip out. He also picked up a some scuba gear and a few tanks, just in case. Maybe the slimy bastard would be more approachable underwater. He really doubted that, but it was better to be prepared than not. He spend the evenings chatting with Hana, which he felt a bit bad about since it was so late for her, but she assured him that it was all good. She only ran on maybe six hours of sleep a night, so she was used to it. He made sure to send her the rough coordinates of the island just in case he stopped responding altogether, and she made a note to pester him during lulls in the conversation about pictures.

 

_< I still don't know why you'd want a picture of that ugly thing._

_< I don't even want to look at it, really._

_< It's just bugging me endlessly so I have to go out again._

 

_> I think it's kinda cool!!!!_

_> I mean come on, it's a merperson!! ^_ _ㅇ_ _^_

_> And pictures will make it feel more real maybe?_

 

_< I guess._

_< Anyway, I'm going to bed. I want to leave early tomorrow._

_< I don't know how far out I'll get service so if I don't respond in two weeks alert someone._

_< Or not, you're probably the only person who will care._

_< Not to sound macabre, but it's true._

 

_> Nonsense, there's gotta be someone who will care!! =_ _ㅅ_ _=_

 

_< Keep telling yourself that. Anyway, she'll be right._

_< Who knows, maybe this gay ass merdude is my soul mate or something_

_< (_ _꒪▿꒪_ _);;_

 

_> Maybe!!!!_

_> He can be your fishy romeo_

_> Or would it be your juliet?_

_> (ღˇᴗˇ)_ _｡♥_

_> LMFAO~~~_

 

_< I don't want to think about either of those options before trying to sleep_

_< That's the last thing I need nightmares about._

_< (_ _ﾟ∇ﾟ_ _|||)_

 

_> Fair enough lol_

_> Good night Mr. Mako Fishfucker_

_> Can I be a bridesmaid???_

 

_< Good night, brat._

_< _ _凸_ _(▼✪(oo)✪▼)_ _凸_

 

Despite that though, it took him a while to wind down and go to sleep. A combination of the excitement at finally getting off his ass and doing something and nervousness at what might be in store for him kept him on edge through most of the night. He finally got to sleep way too early in the morning, and was woken soon after by his alarm. He dressed and grabbed his bag he had packed and set out down to the docks. He send one last text to Hana before he started his boat and headed off into the sea.

 

Thanks to his new navigation system, he was able to give minimal attention to where he was actually going. As a result, he spent most of the trip out familiarizing himself with the camera on his phone, taking experimental pictures of the wheelhouse of his shitty boat. His main subject was the sun-bleached hula girl glued to a windowsill, a memento of the watercraft's previous owner.

 

All too soon, however, the atoll rose up to meet him on the horizon. It was kind of intimidating, despite it having virtually no vertical mass. It was just the memory of what had happened that had him twitchy. He pulled relatively close to the island, taking care to watch out for the crests in the reef that dotted the area around it that made it more trouble than it was worth for most people. Maybe it was those crests that harbored good living areas for the beast.

 

He threw his anchor overboard and watched it descend into the clear waters down to the rocky bottom of the reef. He was sure that if there was anyone around, he'd get a serious talking-to about dropping anchor onto a living reef, but he always felt better about his boat being tied down on a solid surface rather than hoping the sand didn't shift too much for his boat to drift. He shaded his eyes from the sun as he looked around the shore line and the waters nearby. That fishy bastard was nowhere in sight.

 

Yet.

 

Thankfully, Mako came prepared. He hauled up a cooler from one of the storage spaces and cracked it open, and bit back his gag reflex as the stench of bait fish hit him. He hauled the reeking box near the edge of the boat and started tossing fish overboard one at a time. There was a small amount of activity as some barricudas and other carnivorous reef fish came to snatch them up, then some of the smaller fish as the larger ones filled themselves. He did this for nearly a half an hour before getting bored. He kicked the half-empty cooler shut and pulled out his lawn chair. Maybe a nap was in order. The smelly bastard was probably on the other side of the goddamn island anyway.

 

He settled into the chair and let out a contented sigh. An hour or two would be nice, especially considering how little he got the night before. Mako yawned and continued to rationalize his nap, and he only got a few more seconds into it before he was out like a light.

 

His sleep was invaded by a thrumming, soft sound, like a weasel being scrubbed on a washboard. It warped into something soothing and pleasant, and despite the warning shrieking in the back of his mind that the _thing_ was back, he let himself be drawn deeper down into the sound. Soft hands started caressing his arms, his shoulders, and a weight settled down over his lap and stomach. It was a pleasant sensation, to have someone give him this kind of attention, and with the weird thing's song going, he could ignore what it looked like in favor of just enjoying himself.

 

But, eventually, his will won out. He _knew_ what this wretched thing looked like, and that memory alone managed to overcome its mesmerizing song. He cracked open one of his eyes to get a look at the creature in his lap.

 

It was much the same as he remembered it; slimy-looking, with unhealthy-looking pale skin and olive-colored scales. The fins were still fiery orange and yellow, a sharp contrast in vividness to its drab body, and the blond hair was even more tangled, if that was even possible. Its eyes were closed in fishy bliss, which made its face look a little less disproportional. It seemed to realize though that Mako was no longer accepting the effects of its warbling screeches, and it started slightly and opened its huge eyes.

 

They were still a glowing amber as it looked him over with apprehension. Its body language definitely suggested that it remembered its previous encounter very well, and was ready to bounce away should any fists or rocks come flying its way.

 

“What do you want?” Mako asked flatly. The creature cocked its head at him, making it obvious it didn't understand. He sighed and sat up. The fish bounced off his lap and across the deck, still eyeing him warily. “I'm not gonna hurt you,” the man growled as he attempted to wipe off some of the foul-smelling slime that was left behind.

 

The merfolk looked him over and then glanced out over the water. It looked back at him, and reached out tentatively towards him. It took a hold of his pinky finger and gently pulled toward the edge of the boat.

 

“You want me to go swimming with you?” Mako asked and pointed into the water. The creature cocked its head and nodded. It vaulted over the edge of the boat and into the water, its substantial length slithering into the waves without a splash. It was definitely more attractive _in_ the water, even if just barely. He sighed and dug out some goggles, which he gave a quick spit rub before putting them on and falling back into the water. He was going to die today.

 

Mako righted himself and came up for air before diving back down. The fish was spinning in joyful circles, nearly tying itself in knots in its pure glee at having Mako join it in the water. It tugged at him here and there, trying to show him a million things at once. It was entertaining at first, but Mako could feel the mood start to shift quickly as he had to keep coming up to the surface for air.

 

It started as annoyed little clicks, and then small grabs as he rose up to get a new breath. That was probably when he should have gotten out of the water, looking back on it. He did not, however. So when his fishy host had decided that it was tired of Mako swimming off in the middle of a tour to survive, it wasn't entirely unexpected.

 

It was still terrifying, though.

 

Mako had just kicked upwards to get his next breath when the fish grabbed a hold of his ankle. There was an annoyed look on its face, as if it thought that his swimming off was wholly unnecessary and was purely rude. Mako tried to kick back against the grip, but he was stuck. It was surprisingly strong, and he was very much reminded that the playing field was not at all level here. He struggled against the hand, which pulled him deeper down. Pressure built against his eardrums and his lungs started to burn as he became increasingly aware of the now forty feet of water between him and the surface.

 

He struggled again against his captor, who seemed confused at his resistance, then annoyed again. Mako bared his teeth in frustration at it, or at least, where it was. His vision was going blurry, and alarms were ringing in his head and chest. He needed air and he needed it _now_ , or else this thing would be crooning over his corpse. That was _not_ happening. He swung out with his fist, and connected to the side of the merfolk's head.

 

Water resistance slowed his punch down considerably, but there was still enough force behind it to make it hurt. His ankle was released and Mako kicked off and shot towards the surface. His ears popped painfully as he broke the surface and took a much-needed breath, only to swallow a lot of seawater as he was dragged down again. He kicked out with his free leg, and connected with a body again. He swam as fast as he could in the direction he last remembered his boat being in, and nearly cried in relief when he hit his head against the hull. He hauled himself up and into it faster than he had ever done anything in his life and crawled across the deck, coughing and gagging. He threw the goggles from his head, and collapsed.

 

He felt the edges of his barely-restored vision start to blur more, and realized he was close to passing out.

 

Well, he thought, as he flipped himself over onto his back, at least if he got dragged in the water again he wouldn't feel being drowned this time. With that, he slipped into unconsciousness.

 


End file.
